


a knock at midnight

by ren_xx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Consent, Dom/sub Undertones, Gay Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Stiles Stilinski Gives Oral Sex, sterek, stiles crashed scott's bike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ren_xx/pseuds/ren_xx
Summary: Sure, Derek was annoyed to be woken up in the middle of the night by someone knocking on the door, but that annoyance goes away when he opens the door and sees Stiles.And he's hurt.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 209





	a knock at midnight

Derek was jerked out of a dream by a knock on his door. He rubbed his eyes and blinked, trying to wake himself up.

“Goddammit, Isaac, it’s midnight, fuck off!” He yelled, forcing himself out of bed and pulling on a tank top. 

But, because it was Isaac, he didn't fuck off, and instead kept knocking, the rapping growing louder and more insistent, and he heard a voice from the other side of the door call, "Derek!" 

_ That's not Isaac _ . Derek strode through the living room and threw the door open, his eyes widening when, instead of Isaac's annoying face, like he'd been expecting, he saw Stiles, eyes red, and looking significantly battered, dirty.

"Oh, thank God," Stiles choked out, barreling into Derek and hugging him unexpectedly. Derek staggered back a few steps before he regained his balance and awkwardly patted Stiles on the back.

"Stiles, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" Derek took hold of Stiles by the shoulders and held him at arm's length, assessing the damage.

Stiles' torso was covered in small scrapes and bruises, and his shoulder was mottled dark purple. Blood welled up from a scrape on his shoulder. His breath shook and his chest hitched with every inhale. 

"Oh, shit. Here, sit down, let me get my first aid kit." Derek guided Stiles to the couch and sprinted to the bathroom. He dug his first aid kit out of the back of his vanity, a white and blue plastic box that Scott had forced him to buy "just in case". Well, it sure would come in handy now. 

He rushed back to the sofa, sitting down and opening the first aid kit on his lap. "Stiles, what happened?" 

Stiles shook his head, berating himself. "Scott borrowed my Jeep to go visit Kira in San Francisco, and he lent me his bike in the meantime. Well, what do you know, I'm driving back from Taco Bell and I drive into a fucking ditch. You were close by." 

Derek took hold of Stiles' hands, which were clenched into fists, and gently unfurled his fingers, gripping his hands. "Stiles, it's okay. I'll fix you up." 

Stiles' hands twitched and he pulled away, averting his gaze. "Okay," he whispered. 

Derek offered him a weak smile and wet a rag with some disinfectant. "This might sting," he warned before cleaning off Stiles' scrapes. Stiles winced, digging his fingertips into his palms. When Derek wiped off the gash on Stiles' shoulder, he jumped and protested loudly, "Hey, watch it!" 

"Almost done," Derek reassured him before wiping Stiles' split lip. "Okay, the bad part's over. Does it hurt anywhere?"

"Nah, I think I'm good. I lost my Taco Bell, though. A raccoon's probably eaten it by now."

Derek smiled, peeling away the backings off of some Bandaids and placing them all over Stiles' scratches, even the minor ones.

"Whatcha doing that for? I don't need them."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Placebo effect. It works on little kids."

"Hey-"

Derek cut him off. "Why don't you go take a shower? Clean yourself off. It might help."

"But-"

"No. No buts. Go take a shower. I'll make dinner." Derek shoved Stiles toward the bathroom.

"Fine," he called on his way to the bathroom. "But I'm taking your clothes!"

"Help yourself!" He headed to the kitchen, heating up the waffle iron and digging the pancake mix out of the pantry. He pulled various toppings out of the fridge and cabinets and lay them all out on the counter. Chocolate syrup, strawberries, blueberries, chocolate chips, cinnamon, peanut butter, Nutella, mini marshmallows, maple syrup, strawberry jam, marmalade, honey, and whipped cream, the works. Stiles loved anything and everything sweet on his waffles and pancakes, and Derek made sure to keep everything in stock, since most of their pack meetings were held at Derek's because he was the only one of the pack that had his own place.

  
  
  


He mixed together the batter and poured some over the waffle iron, closing it and putting on a pot of coffee. Even if it was simple, cooking always calmed Derek down, which he desperately needed right now. Anger simmered just under the surface, which was totally stupid, because this was no one's fault. He knew that it wasn't really anger, just worry. But his thoughts spiraled, and he got lost in his head thinking about what could have happened. 

"Derek, do you have blankets? It's cold." Stiles asked from across the room, pulling Derek out of his thoughts.

Derek steeled himself and inhaled, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind. "In the chest at the end of the bed," he called out, switching off the waffle iron and placing the last waffle on the plate.

Stiles pulled out a stool that was tucked under the island and hopped on, a navy blanket draped over his shoulders. He wore Derek's favorite hoodie, though it was more like a dress on Stiles. The beige sleeves draped over his hands, and even after he tugged them up they still covered everything but his fingers. As Derek walked around the island to hand Stiles a plate, his eyes flew to Stiles' bare legs. He didn't seem to be wearing pants, and his creamy skin was exposed up to his upper thigh, which was covered by the hoodie, and then down to his ankles, since he wore a pair of navy socks that were way too small for Derek, so they probably the only socks that fit Stiles, considering he was three sizes smaller than Derek. 

Derek snapped his gaze away, his eyes flashing red for just a second. His heart hammered and he scolded himself, digging his nails into his palms. The boy crashed a motorcycle, you idiot! Scolding himself didn't put a stop to the erotic thoughts that went through his head. He couldn't help it, seeing Stiles in his clothes just did something to him. He had denied his feeling for Stiles for months before finally accepting them, but he had no clue if Stiles felt the same. Derek knew that Stiles was bisexual. It'd be hard to miss, considering how often Stiles joked about it, but Derek didn't know if Stiles felt anything for him. Any time Derek got too close, Stiles would get all flustered and find some excuse to move away as soon as possible.

Derek realized he'd been staring into space, and he shook his head, snapping out of it and sliding onto the stool next to Stiles. Stiles had already sandwiched two waffles together with every topping imaginable, mini marshmallows spilling onto the plate. Derek smothered peanut butter on his waffle and dotted it with strawberries before hopping up to pour them both a cup of coffee. He stirred a spoonful of sugar into his, but Stiles liked his to be three-quarters milk and sweet enough to give an elephant diabetes. 

"Thanks for the waffles, Der," Stiles said around a mouthful. "And the coffee," he added as Derek handed him the mug with a nod, sitting back down. 

"Hey, it's not Taco Bell, but it's a good substitute." He sipped coffee between each bite of waffle.

"Your shower has good water pressure," Stiles commented, his mouth full. Derek made a noise of acknowledgement and drained his cup. 

"Want another one?" Derek offered, sliding the plate of waffles towards Stiles. 

"Ooh, yeah!" Somehow Stiles had already eaten his waffle sandwich, though Derek had no clue how he wasn't in a sugar coma by now. He would probably be soon, though, considering that he spread enough Nutella on his new waffle to drown a horse. 

"Want some waffles with your Nutella?" Derek tossed the last piece of his waffle into his mouth. 

"Hey, I should be exempt from teasing. I just crashed into a ditch. I think you can cut me a little slack," Stiles grinned, twisting the lid shut. He extended the spoon to Derek. "Here. Lick. God knows you could use some joy in your life, maybe chocolate'll do it."

Derek chuckled and took the spoon while Stiles took a huge bite of his waffle. After Derek had cleaned off the spoon, Stiles turned to him. "So? Did it work? Is your life joyful now?"

"Hmmm... I can't say I've noticed any changes in the past two minutes. I'll let you know if anything fabulous happens."

"Lame. Hey, I'm done eating. Wanna watch a movie?" Stiles hopped off of the chair. "Do you have Harry Potter?"

"Yeah, you made me buy it, remember? But do we really have to watch that again?"

"C'mon Der, don't be lame. We can watch one of the later ones," he pleaded, taking hold of Derek's arm and attempting to drag him to the couch. Considering Derek was a whole head taller than Stiles, they didn't get very far.

"Pleaseeeeee? Please please please pleeeeeease? I'm cold, we can cuddle!" He gave Derek puppy dog eyes and stuck out his bottom lip. Derek let out a dramatic sigh and let Stiles drag him to the couch. "Fine, fine. Get another blanket. That one you have isn't big enough."

*****

Five minutes later, Stiles had squeezed both of them onto the couch, somehow convincing Derek to spoon him. They were pressed together tightly to avoid Stiles falling off the couch. Derek was sure Stiles could hear his heart going crazy, feel it beating, but he didn't seem to notice, resting his head on Derek's arm and complaining about how the movies messed Ginny up. Derek was so wired, he couldn't focus on the movie. All he could think about was Stiles' body nestled into his. With every inhale, Stiles' scent flooded his nose, and the fact that Stiles smelled like Derek's body wash and was wearing his hoodie made Derek crazy. 

Stiles craned his neck to look at Derek. "Dude, you're so stiff. Chill out! Just relax. Here-" he pulled Derek's leg up so it rested on Stiles' hip and nestled even closer, his ass rubbing against Derek's crotch. 

Oh no.

Derek bit his tongue and took deep breaths, trying to control himself. If he got hard now, there was no way that Stiles wouldn't notice. But nothing he was doing was working, and he could feel his semi slowly hardening. 

"Stiles?" He said a bit frantically.

"Yeah?"

"Could you...give me a massage? I'm, uh...really tense."

"Yeah! Roll onto your stomach."

Stiles climbed on top of Derek's back and scooted down until he sat just above Derek's ass. He pulled the hem of Derek's tank top up and maneuvered the shirt off of him. Derek sighed in relief. His erection was now pressed into the couch cushions, and it'd probably go down in a few minutes. 

"Woah! Derek, your back feels like a fucking brick wall! Why are you so tense?" Stiles exclaimed as he began to massage Derek' back, just beside his tattoo.

"Uhh..."

"You have so many knots!" Stiles ground his thumb into a knot and Derek let out an audible moan. He clapped his hand over his mouth. "Sorry," he mumbled through his hand. 

Stiles didn't say anything, just continued to undo the knots by rubbing in small, circular motions. The only sound was the TV. Derek's eyes drifted shut and he focused on the feeling of Stiles' slender hands pressing into his back. His muscles gradually loosened and he let himself relax, closing his eyes and not trying to stop the soft moans that floated out of his mouth. 

"Ok, you're done," Stiles said in a quiet voice.

"Mmm, thank you. I don't know how you did that, it felt so good..." Derek blinked away the sleepiness in his eyes and rolled over, grabbing Stiles by the hips so he didn't fall off the couch. This was actually a terrible decision, because now Stiles was sitting in his lap. 

He yelped and covered Derek's eyes with one hand. "Don't look!"

"Uhh...why?" Derek tried to move out from under Stiles' hand, but he kept his hand there. 

"Stiles, what is it?"

"Um, I...you...uh," Stiles stammered out frantically. Derek could hear the embarrassment in his voice. 

Derek blindly grabbed a blanket and draped it over his eyes like a blindfold. "There, I'm not looking."

They were both silent for a second. "Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I look now?"

"No!" 

"Okay, okay, sorry. Let me know when I can have my sight back."

More silence. 

Even more silence. Horrible, terrible, quiet silence. 

"Derek?"

"Mmm?"

Derek felt Stiles' hands on his chest and his breath on Derek's cheek. His stomach jolted. What was Stiles doing-

Their lips brushed together and Derek's eyes flew open under the blanket. He sat up abruptly, the blanket falling off. Stiles sat in his lap, cheeks red. His eyes were wide like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar as he began to stammer out an apology, but Derek stopped him, pulling him closer and pressing their lips together. Stiles let out a surprised noise against Derek's lips and began to kiss him back, his hand moving to the back of Derek's neck. Derek slid an arm around Stiles' waist and slid a hand into Stiles' hair at the nape of his neck, perfect spots for pressing Stiles to him.

Stiles pulled away for a second and laughed. 

"What? Why are you-"

"You taste like Nutella!"

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?" 

"Shut up."

Their lips crashed together and somehow, Derek ended up on top of Stiles, and it was then that he noticed why Stiles had covered Derek's eyes. Stiles' hoodie had ridden up to his stomach, revealing his boxers. Even with his hoodie covering it, it'd be hard to miss his erection. He felt his own erection stiffen again, though it hadn't gone done fully before. Derek stared, his eyes raking from Stiles' belly button and down his happy trail, all the way down to the bulge in his boxers. 

Stiles covered his face with his hands, the long sleeves of the hoodie flopping over his eyes. He let out a squeak and Derek grinned at the blush on his cheeks. 

"Hey, don't hide from me now," Derek tugged at the ends of Stiles' sleeves, trying to uncover his face. 

He peeked out from under his hands, pupils wide and face red. Derek settled on top of him and brought his face down to meet Stiles'. He wrapped both arms around Derek's neck and kissed him back. Their kissing grew more heated and Derek coaxed Stiles' mouth open with his tongue. Stiles' hands scrabbled against the nape of Derek's neck and he groaned, thrusting his hips upward. Derek moaned against his mouth and began to grind into him.

Letting out a gasp, Stiles threw his head back and pushed his hips upward. Derek planted sloppy kisses along his jaw and down the length of his neck. He bit and sucked at Stiles' neck, coaxing tiny moans out of him. Leaving a hickey, he lifted his head and, all of a sudden, flipped the hood over Stiles' head and pulled the drawstrings, tying them so the fabric covered Stiles' eyes. He yelped in surprise. 

"Your turn to be blindfolded," Derek growled into Stiles' ear, "Okay?"

"Yes!" Stiles choked out.

Derek kissed down the trail of hair from Stiles' belly button, pushing down the waistband of Stiles' boxers as he went until he planted a kiss just above Stiles' erection. He pulled the boxers off of Stiles' legs and Stiles jumped, letting out a whimper. Derek licked a stripe up Stiles' hard on, and he inhaled abruptly. His hands kept moving to undo the knot in the drawstrings, but he stopped himself. Derek fought a smile and gripped Stiles by the hips with both hands. 

Before Derek had really accepted his sexuality, there had been a period when he had spent an embarrassing amount of time in gay bars, blowing random guys in the bathroom and getting railed in the backseat of a car. He wasn't proud of all the STIs he'd contracted, but he did know his way around a dick. He didn't want to go all in just yet. It was fun seeing Stiles squirm.

His tongue licked up the length of Stiles' cock, coaxing tiny gasps out of his parted lips. Derek took just the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip and bobbing his head, taking a tiny bit more each time his head went back down. All of a sudden, he took all of Stiles in his mouth for a few seconds before lifting his head and letting go of Stiles' hips all at once. Stiles moaned and his hips flew up, his fingers scrabbling against the couch. 

"Nghh, Derek, please!" He keened, unable to hold himself back. He reached for the strings on his hoodie, but, quick as a flash, Derek grabbed his wrists. "No, Derek, Derek, please! I need-I need...please... nghh!" He arched his back and threw his head back, breathing heavily. He tried to move his arms, but Derek was too strong. 

Derek’s chest heaved and all of his senses honed in on Stiles.

This was too hard. He couldn't stand to see Stiles so desperate. There was no way Derek could wait any longer. 

He wanted to watch Stiles come undone beneath him.

"Fuck..." Derek swallowed and steeled himself, trying to ignore his own hard on. He palmed himself through his pants for a moment before grabbing Stiles by the hips with one hand. He took Stiles in his mouth again, moving his head up and down slowly and twisting it slightly with each movement. He wrapped his free hand around the base and pumped Stiles' length, focusing his mouth at Stiles' tip. It was obvious that Stiles wouldn't last much longer, judging from the moans flowing freely from his mouth and the way he'd thrown his head back, exposing his neck. 

"Der-Derek... I can't- I- I'm gonna- _ nghhhh _ !" Stiles cried out and shot into Derek's mouth, his body shuddering and his hands grabbing at the back of Derek's head. Derek swallowed before any taste registered and released his hold on Stiles. He scooped Stiles up, lay on his back, and placed Stiles on top of him. Stiles had gone limp and was breathing heavily. When Derek removed the hood and uncovered his eyes, they were closed.

"That..." Stiles said hoarsely, "was the best orgasm I've ever had. Fuck, I don't think I can move." 

Derek laughed softly, stroking Stiles' hair and trying to ignore his own erection. He was fine, he didn't need anything. They lay there in silence, Stiles' chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Derek almost thought he might be asleep, but after a few minutes, Stiles started to stir.

"Stiles?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Stiles laughed. "You know, I'm kind of glad I crashed the bike. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be here with you..." He walked his fingers up Derek's chest.

"You could have gotten really hurt, Stiles..."

"Yeah, but I didn't!"

"Think about what could have happened, though. I mean, you could have broken something, you could have hit your head, gotten a concussion, you could have twisted an angle or gotten cut really badly. God, you could have-"

Stiles cut him off with a kiss. "Der, it's so sweet that you're worried about me, but really, I'm fine. I'm better, so, so much better than fine."

Derek gave him a tiny smile and pulled him in, pressing their lips together, his hand on the back of Stiles' head.

Stiles shifted on top of him, and his leg pressed up against Derek's groin. Derek grunted against Stiles' mouth and accidentally tugged on Stiles' hair. Stiles pulled away abruptly and grinned. "Are you horny, Derek?" He asked in a teasing voice.

"No. Shut up and kiss me," Derek lied gruffly and pulled Stiles back in. 

"C'mon, Der, don't tell me you're not all pent up..." Stiles whispered against his lips and palmed Derek's hard on through his pants. Derek's breath hitched and he let out a quiet gasp.

"Aha, I knew it. It's not fair, you got me off, now it's my turn." Stiles' hands edged under the hem of Derek's shirt, wrestling it off him. He traced Derek's torso with one finger, following it with his mouth, peppering kisses down Derek's stomach. Stiles untied the drawstring of Derek's sweatpants, pulling the waistband off of his hips. Derek wasn't wearing any underwear, so as soon as Stiles slid his sweatpants down enough, his erection stood straight up. Stiles gaped. "Well, fuck. I might not be able to get all of that in my mouth-"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, please," Derek choked out, squeezing his eyes shut. He needed relief. Now. 

"Patience, young grasshopper," Stiles said with mock severity, wrapping his hand around Derek's base. Stiles had pretty small hands, so he couldn't even fit his whole hand around Derek's length. He began to pump his hand slowly, lowering his head. 

When Derek became an Alpha, it had some... unexpected side effects. For one, his sense of smell became stronger. Also, his scent changed. As a beta, he'd had a generally neutral scent. But as an Alpha, his scent was designed to affect Omegas. He could smell when omegas became aroused, when they reacted to his scent. He also became stronger, and more muscular. Though, that wasn't the only part of him that got bigger.

Derek inhaled sharply as Stiles' mouth enveloped him, moving up and down slowly. He pumped the base with one hand, letting spit drip down and slicken his hand. He slowly increased in speed, and Derek's tip nudged the back of Stiles' throat with each movement. Arousal buzzed through him, and he could tell this wouldn't take long. He'd been pent up for too long. 

Stiles did something with his tongue and his hands at the same time that made a chill run all the way to the tips of Derek's fingers, and he tossed his head back, moaning through gritted teeth. His hips bucked of their own accord, thrusting into Stiles' mouth. Stiles let out a choked noise, but persisted, holding Derek's hips down with both hands and moving faster. 

Derek felt his eyes turning red, and he let out a hollow gasp. "St-Stiles! Fuck, I'm gonna-" He cut himself off with a throaty moan and his hands clenched into fists. His eyes turned completely red and he arched his back, bucking his hips up and shooting into Stiles' hand. "Fuck..." His claws sprung out and dug into the couch cushions, scratching gashes into the fabric.

He groaned loudly, throwing his mouth open and trying to cling to this feeling. His hips made tiny thrusts of his own accord into Stiles' hand. His vision slowly cleared and his back slowly relaxed, his body laying flat on the sofa. 

Stiles wiped his hand on a tissue and stared at Derek, looking him up and down hungrily as Derek's chest heaved. Stiles settled on top of Derek, brushing a finger over Derek's lips before kissing him. Derek's claws disappeared, and he brought a hand to Stiles' hip, holding it firmly. They kissed for what seemed like forever, which was completely fine with Derek, before Stiles pulled away. 

"Carry me to bed?" he whispered.

"Oh, I don't know. I think I might be too weak from that fantastic blowjob-"

"Derek!"

"Oh, alright, alright,"

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's neck and Derek hooked one arm under his legs, carrying him bridal style to the bedroom and setting him down on the bed. Stiles stripped off his clothes and curled up under Derek's huge blanket. He tugged Derek into bed beside him, pressing himself up to Derek's side and tucking himself under his arm. 

"It's 3 am. This is gonna fuck up our sleep schedules, you know-"

"Shhh," Derek pressed a finger to Stiles' lips and pulled the covers up higher. "You need rest."

And they drifted off to sleep, bodies tucked together and fingers intertwined. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! :)


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